Odette's 96th Hunger Games
by Furyfur
Summary: Partnered with iceshadow4's 96th Hunger Games. Hello, my name is Odette. I am sixteen years old. I am the last surviving member of District 13. And I'm about to kill my best friend.
1. The Last Surviving Member

**Odette's 96th Hunger Games**

**A/N: Oh no! A Hunger Games FanFiction…? No, Furyfur, don't do it! You're going to ruin the whole thing! You can't try and stand up to the Hunger Games! You'll just ruin it for yourself and everyone else!**

**Spoiler warning, but only really for the first book…Please review and make me happy!**

~Odette's 96th Hunger Games~

District 8 is such a noisy place. I despise it. No, let me rephrase that: I despise all of the Districts. One through twelve. All of them. Well, almost all of them.

My name is Odette Crywire.

I am sixteen years old.

I am the last surviving member of District 13.

I moved to District 8 when I was ten, so it was six years ago. District 13 was destroyed before that, but I refuse to leave the scattered, ashy debris of what used to be my home and my family. I'm been deeply afraid of explosions since then. I was too young to handle it. I definitely did not want to leave District Used-To-Be-13 and move to a District closer to 1. I trained on the ashes for years. When I did get over my grudge and decided to move, I was faced with a choice. They wouldn't except me in District 1, nor would I except them. After living what seemed to be a full life, though only ten years, in District 13, I couldn't bear to begin living in another poor District like 12. Ever since Katniss Everdeen's fluke Hunger Game victory had come to an end, District 12's glory had been settling back to normal little by little. If you ask me, something inside their souls in dying. They never had another victor, anyway, so who cares?

So I settled for a spot in the middle. I joined District 8. Being honest, it's really not all that bad. Too loud, but not as noisy and obnoxious as District 1 by far. It's miles and miles away from District 1, and still a sizably distance from District 12. A lot of places to work. Frankly, I found the work kind of boring, but not boring enough to wrack at my sanity. What _does _bug me is that, in the whole six years I've been living here, I haven't made a single acquaintance. No one to call "friend." I stayed away from everyone in fear that I would have to explain where I got my bleach-white pale skin and sun-golden eyes from. It was simple: The sky was gray in District 13. My eyes are the thieves that stole the sun. It almost sounds poetic.

Every year, a reaping takes place here. The same can be said for the other eleven Districts. In District 1 and the other rich Districts, reapings are almost-and it sickens me to say this-a happy occasion. In District 12, it's horrible. Here, being a middle District, it's kind of an anxious feeling. Not happy, but not sad either. It depends who you are, really. A few people-barely any, but few still-have prepared for such an occasion as getting your name drawn. I imagine it with a shiver. All their lives, they've been training for the Games. It must be horrible. All _my _life, I've been training for a war with District 1.

All the twelve-year-olds, however, are allowed to be scared. No one likes it when twelve-year-olds are chosen. It takes the fun out of things, I guess.

For me, reapings are boring. With all the people putting their names in more than once, I don't have a chance of being chosen. First were the poor people who needed the food. Not many people were poor here, but it wasn't exactly uncommon. Second was the people who needed the grain and oil for work. Some were just lazy, but there was only a handful of people like that here. Lastly, really dedicated fighters and people who have trained all their life put their names in more than once to "save the smaller people the trouble," according to Richie Hansen, a snot-nosed punk from my school.

My name is only entered once, every year. That's because I'm not stupidly head-over-heels in self-glory, and I don't need the food. Hunting may be illegal here, but no one's watching at night. I resorted to nocturnal prey, preserving my roots in District 13. Killing is a hobby. It makes me feel good.

You won't believe this, but most of my food actually comes from owls. I catch them with traps I set up in trees. It's a shame, actually. I love owls. They're swift, strong, silent, and hunt by night. They're just like me.

So, the odds are pretty much with me. Then why were the odds defied? I'm not unlucky like Katniss Everdeen.

"Odette Crywire."

My eyes snapped to attention from where I was daydreaming. I looked behind me. Who had said my name?

"Odette Crywire? Are you here?"

I realized with unspoken shock where the voice was coming from. The mayor.

Without thought of the matter, I began walking forward.

"Odette? Odette, where are-"

"I'm right here," I snapped. "I'm Odette Crywire."

The audience roared with respect. It was music to my ears. I felt stronger, but I still hadn't completely taken in what had happened.

Looking to my left, it took a great amount of effort not to laugh out loud. Richie Hansen was the male contestant representing District 8. A boy the windblown brown hair and determined brown eyes. The boy who entered his name more than once to save the weaker people the trouble of dying on live TV.

One emotion ran through my body at that moment. It wasn't anger. It wasn't happiness, nor was it fear, or any kind of competitive feeling.

It was complete and utter disrespect.

~Odette's 96th Hunger Games~

By the time an hour had passed on the train, I could feel the flames of Hell licking at my feet.

I realized what had happened.

My eyes are waterproof. I never cry. I think that my eyes are golden sand dunes that suck up any liquid that enter them. Unlike the stupid girly messes of people I see at school, my eyes don't "sparkle" or "glitter." I'm not even positive they're alive.

I became positive, however, when I began to cry silently to myself.

_Thank God I'm alone. _I thought to myself, wiping away the salty ocean that dripped from the sand dunes. The stolen sun of District 13. The taste of salt was unnatural.

And I'll be alone for awhile. This was the time everyone was visited by their friends and family, but I had none, so I can just sit here and cry it out. Besides the steady humming of the train, it was silent. Solitude. I love that word. Not only did it just roll off the tongue, it was also the most peaceful feeling in the world. When I was in solitude, there were no Districts. No people, even. Just quiet and lots of space to think. Blank nothingness. I love it.

There was a knock on the door.

"Are you crying in there?" a soft voice said. The first thought that entered my mind was that Richie had come to laugh at me, but I shook that idea away. That wasn't his voice.

"No," I blurted. "Who's that?"

"Can I come in?" the soft voice said. I smoothed my wavy brown hair and pushed the blush away from my eyes. I didn't give an answer, though.

The door opened slowly. Despite the female tint in the voice, it was a boy. He had brown eyes…They were…There was a word. Beautiful? No, that wasn't it. It sounded too unreal. They were…Pure. He had blonde-no, snow white-hair that hung all the way onto his back. There was nothing male about him. In fact, there was nothing human about him. He was…Pure.

"Why in the world did you…?"

"District 1, Ryo. You?" he said in barely a whisper. He had a dream catcher around his neck and spoke in a British accent. Just by looking into his eyes I could read his entire past. It was like looking into a strange peaceful transition between life and death. He didn't need to speak; his eyes told his story.

His parents were killed and he had witnessed it. They were murdered. He had felt their blood on his hand. The word "murderer" was stuck in the corner of his mind. It didn't want to go away. Not the word or the horrible memory. I saw who did it, but…I quickly pushed that matter out of my mind. It wouldn't matter for now.

It was almost unfair the way he communicated with me. He didn't speak, but he sat with me and rubbed his hand against my spine with his knuckles. I couldn't hide my emotions in front of him because the stinging glare of his eyes just pushed them out. I didn't speak either; but I cried. I cried and I didn't stop. My parents, my friends, this boy's family, and all of District 13…How many losses were there in this world? And with the next Hunger Games, there will only be more…

That boy wouldn't leave me alone. No, more like I wouldn't leave him alone. He suggested places we should go explore and I agreed with him. We stayed together all until they called us in to eat.

Someone somewhere was making some long speech, but Ryo and I were wrapped in conversation. I realized that I haven't even told him my name, but he was polite enough to put up with me. I blushed and felt a rush of guilt.

"I'm Odette, by the way," I snuck in during our conversation. With all the pandemonium of the Hunger Games and both of our losses, Ryo had other things to talk about. I envied his lifestyle. He only had time to think about things that were…here's that word again…Pure. I almost wanted to ask him what Heaven was like and if the other angels were nice to him.

He didn't ask what District. It was as if my eyes had told his eyes that I didn't want to be asked. He said, "Odette. Nice to meet you."

"I'm…District 8."

He gave up. "Are you sure?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't belong there."

That brought up another point in my already-cluttered mind. Did this boy even belong in District 1? _No. _I decided. _The only place this boy belongs I wherever he goes._

"Where do you belong?"

I thought about this. I wanted to change the subject. He seemed to have gotten the message, but he waited patiently, as if eager to hear my answer.

"Dead."

He kept the same facial expression. His eyes were inviting me to share my story, or to let my feelings out. This time, I answered to his eyes.

"I can't here-There are too many people."

"Okay."

I looked away. There was another factor that wasn't fair: He could see my eyes and know everything, but I had to make eye contact. While he was distracted, only who or whatever he looked at got the emotional flow his eyes brought on. Ryo had magic powers. That was the only explanation.

As soon as they let us eat, I lost my appetite. Ryo didn't seem hungry either, but he still wanted me to eat. I wasn't getting tired of this boy. In fact, I loved him. Yes, I was sure of that. His lost, ignorant yet all-knowing eyes, his bleached hair that seemed to be rising up towards Heaven…I felt like a child. This is what bliss felt like. He made me smile, this boy. I didn't want to leave him. He's too pure.

The pure feeling was soon gone, however.

"Hello, I'm Temperance Jay. What's yours?"

I decided to be a little free with information toward this girl with short brown hair who so rudely interrupted my thoughts. In fact, Ryo made me feel rebellious towards District 1. I want them to get some good dirt. So, here I go.

"Odette Crywire, last surviving member of District 13, transferred into District 8," I said, ice in my voice.

She looked stunned. In fact, everyone within earshot looked stunned. I kept the same expression and felt a deep proud surge of emotion.

"I'm District 12."

"Then you'll be the first to die."

That really put her down.

She pointed towards Ryo. "What's that dream catcher thingy around your neck?"

I almost seemed offended. Such impure words towards such a pure person…It was…horrible, almost. I wanted to slap her.

"This is an ancient Egyptian artifact that my father gave to me before he died. I'm Ryo, by the way." He spoke as quietly as he did with me. His voice would strain if he tried to raise it. I pouted, not wanting him to talk to the girl any more. Temperance. What a stupid name. Maybe I was just jealous…

"Well, I'll see you two later," she said. She turned and walked away. I immediately needed to complain to someone, and Ryo was the only one left.

"'I'll see you two later,' she says! The next time we see her, we're literally going to be killing each other! It doesn't make any sense how she-"

"It's alright," Ryo said in a voice that could've calmed the Big Bang. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, whatever. I'll be right back…" I started to sulk off in the direction of the bathroom. I needed some alone time.

I stopped in my tracks when Ryo pulled me back with his arms wrapped around me. He buried his face in my back. I could feel him smiling.

"If you're angry, I'm here for you," he said softly. I nodded, escaped his embrace, and walked away, wondering what had just happened. I felt an odd satisfaction in knowing he was happy. I had pleased an angel. Clearly I was blessed.

Turning a corner in the complicated hotel, I found what seemed to automatically bring on another headache.

I saw Temperance again, locking lips with some dirty-blonde boy who was so tall he needed to arch his back to reach her level. I panicked.

_They're making out! _I thought, suppressing a gasp. _Should I look away?_

While I continued watching them, another dirty thought entered my own head. The thought alone questioned my compatibility with Ryo. Maybe I was too impure for him. Well, I'm a teenager, alright. Only a teenager could think such a thought. I was drowned in a weird emotion. The thought told me that I wasn't worthy of Ryo.

_Lucky them._

~Odette's 96th Hunger Games~

**I'm sorry! Don't make fun of me for adding Ryo! He wasn't my idea! He was iceshadow4's! Blame her! =sob, sob=**

**I counted how many times I said the word "District" in this chapter. 32 times. Yay. ~Furyfur**


	2. Live Television

**Odette's 96th Hunger Games**

** A/N: Chapter Two. Prepare to be disappointed…Jeez, I hate partner stories. And yet this is my second one. =sniff= But…You all love me anyway, right? =holds knife to hostage's neck= Right?**

~Odette's 96th Hunger Games~

You never feel truly useless until someone can fool around with your body as much as they please and you're powerless to stop them. This must be what corpses feel like, but there isn't such a light atmosphere with corpses. Corpses have it easy. When you're aware of what they're doing to you, it gets difficult. Why can't I just be a corpse already?

My name is Odette Crywire.

I am sixteen years old.

I am about to go on live television.

I didn't feel like picking out clothes today. Actually, I didn't want to pick out clothes, period. Not now, not ever. If I could, I would wear one t-shirt and one pair of shorts all my life. Then again, that'd be pretty gross. But nonetheless, I despise trying on clothes like some sort of model princess. Especially in the dreadful case of the opening ceremonies. Too flashy, and too dangerous as well. I mean, they set Katniss Everdeen on fire. She was only in District 12. I already admitted I'm from District 13. Where will that get me? They'll probably just stick me out there naked, just like they used to do with District 13. That'll be one less contestant to worry about in the Hunger Games. Suicide. What a grand way to die.

Nevertheless, it had to be done. If I didn't pick something, they really will stick me out there naked. In a few minutes I'd be lying, with no clothes to protect me, at the mercy of a room full of stylists, burning holes in my skin with their eyes, trying to figure out what to do with me. What about Ryo? In truth, though it pains me to admit it, this was the first time we had been separated. It was almost troubling. I pinched myself for growing so attached to him in the one day I had known him. What were they making him wear, anyway? His angel-thin hair and flawless skin proved him a true District 1. It didn't even matter what they put on him. We all know he'll look perfect.

District 5 finished. The intercom announced the names of the two tributes from District 6, and they left the room. At the very end of the line, Temperance Jay and the boy she had been making out with were sitting together, looking entirely unfazed by the situation. I cracked the knuckle of my pointer finger without touching it. She died at the Cornucopia. So did Blondie.

I don't hate Richie Hansen. I look down on him.

However, standing right next to me, being the tall, abroad seventeen-year-old boy, he looked down on me. I hated that. What made things worse was that he kept trying to talk to me, completely and stupidly unaware that he was being ignored. Well, not completely. I tuned him in and out, depending on how clouded my head was at the moment. He was just shoving my fears in my face, so I couldn't tune him out completely.

"Jeez, this is almost unnerving, even for me. I mean, just a whole group of people staring at you…In my opinion, I think…"

"No one cares about your opinion," I snapped. I couldn't listen to this anymore.

Richie seemed taken aback, but he didn't speak again. He seemed to be waiting for me to follow up on my comment. I would've, too, if we weren't on live TV. Making enemies wasn't the way to win the Hunger Games, anyway.

I was almost thankful when they called us in. I wouldn't have to listen to the sound of his voice anymore.

The moment I entered the door, I was hit with a blizzard of names and handshakes, congratulations and praises on my body structure. It was too much to keep track of, so I saw it as a perfect opportunity to just space out. I didn't have to pay attention, anyway; they did everything for me.

I only had to return to reality when they left me in a room, leaving me with nothing but the order to get naked and a podium where I was supposed to lay on, so my naked body could be like a show for everyone. I did as they said, studying the ceiling the whole time for hidden cameras. I sat there for a while, feeling vulnerable, until I got over it and got hungry. I hadn't eaten much yesterday.

I jumped to attention when the most fake woman I had ever seen entered the room. She had glorious wavy brown hair and deep blue eyes with a distant look. She didn't speak, but her nametag said "Kourtney." Kourtney wasn't human. Fake hair, fake skin, fake lips, fake breasts-I resisted the strong urge to poke her and see if she was real. She didn't seem very friendly, not that I cared how she treated me, but it was still a factor. After all, I didn't want to be dressed in pink frills. Finally, she spoke. As expected, her voice sounded fake. She had a Russian accent, but the Russians didn't exist anymore, so I knew it was fake.

"This is too easy, child," she cooed. "You are dark as night. So you need an elegant yet frightening design." I kind of liked the way she said "elegant" and "frightening." She felt around my body, taking in every bit of me. I felt harassed, but I got distracted quickly. Ryo's face once again appeared in my mind. It was almost childish how much I thought of him.

Kourtney was so quiet, I didn't even realize she was done until she pulled out a velvet black dress with a silver moon across my chest that crept down to my stomach. Secretly, I gave her props. Even I had to admit I looked pretty good.

When we were done fitting and admiring me in the mirror, Kourtney's job was complete. They let me go. They let Richie go at practically the same time as me. I guess he was just as "easy" as I was.

~Odette's 96th Hunger Games~

I didn't see Ryo again until we ate, but he didn't feel like acknowledging my presence. He stayed with me, though, which I thanked him for in my head. I can't blame him for not wanting to talk. After all, the opening ceremonies were tomorrow, and for all I know, they could've soiled his perfectness with something stupid to throw him out there with. No, they wouldn't do that…Would they?

I had lost my appetite, but since I figured I would starve without eating, I took as much as I could. I took note that Temperance wasn't eating. Keeping skinny for her boyfriend?

Though it was obvious he didn't want to talk, I still had a question or two for him that I gathered the courage to answer.

"Are you going to wear your dream catcher for the opening ceremonies?" I asked, trying not to sound too annoying. He didn't look annoyed, but he didn't look any better. He wasn't eating at all.

"I'm kind of glad you asked…They won't let me," he explained. "So, will you hold onto it for me?"

I had to think about this for a second. This was his precious item from his dead father, who travelled all the way to Egypt to get it for him. He wouldn't let anyone touch it, not even me. But I suppose that makes sense, after all, I had only known him for a day and a half.

"Well, I…Are you sure?" I blurted.

Ryo nodded. His eyes looked so innocent, but he was biting his lip, so I could tell he didn't really want to let me touch it.

"You don't…have to."

Ryo smiled. "Who else could I trust?"

He had a point. Who else would he give it to? Temperance? Definitely not. The other girl from District 1? They didn't seem to know each other…Well, I hope not.

"If you really want me to…Then I will. I won't let anyone touch it!" I blurted as fast as I could. Ryo smiled.

"I'm glad," he said softly. He gently picked the dream catcher off his neck, cradled it in his hands, and handed it to me slowly. I accepted it more reluctantly than he handed it to me. We ate the rest of the meal in silence. Not even his eyes spoke to me anymore. I kept the dream catcher in my hands. I couldn't bear to put it away.

~Odette's 96th Hunger Games~

The dream catcher was more attached to Ryo than I was. I could literally feel his warmth on the string that had spent almost all of its life around his neck. It was the most charming little thing I had ever held in my hands. It was too different for me to be looking after it. I didn't even accept the fact he was fine with me holding onto it, so it was out of the question to put it on. I didn't feel like I should put it away, either, so I was at a loss what to do. I just held it in my hands the whole day. Even when I slept. It was only one day. One day I had to hold onto it. It felt like a lifetime.

While I was lying in bed, I could almost feel the worry emanating off the dream catcher that was held tightly in my hands, string lining my fingers. It felt so peaceful. Almost like the little pendant had feelings too. I hadn't let it go since he gave it to me.

It took hours to fall asleep. Tomorrow was the opening ceremonies, then the training and the next day was the interviews. I would just wing all of them. It wasn't like practicing would make a difference, anyway.

The dream catcher really worked. I could see why Ryo loved it so much. I dreamt of my parents; what they would look like and how they would treat me at this point in time. I thought of my other family, too. Maybe Ryo had another family member he was missing. I would ask him about that later. Most of all, however, I dreamed of Ryo. He was with his parents, and who I'm guessing was his younger sister. He looked too happy to be himself. I woke up smiling, and then started to cry softly.

~Odette's 96th Hunger Games~

Leave it to Ryo to wish me luck right before the opening ceremonies. He seemed to be worried, as expected. He studied my body, but I wasn't wearing the dream catcher. To answer his silent question, I smiled, reached into my top, and pulled it out, handing it to him. He sighed with relief.

Ryo looked unreal. Of course they had to make him look great; he was in District 1, after all. He was wearing a white shirt with a black jacket around his shoulders and black pants. A black tie hung from his neck. When I say "unreal," however, I didn't mean it in a good way. "Unreal" means "unnatural." He seemed artificial, not like his normal look. He seemed to have the same outtake on clothes as I did: Who cares, as long as it's clean? This was just another reason for me to hate the Capitol.

And hating the Capitol made me do so many things I wouldn't normally do.

Without thinking, I reached for his neck and unfolded the black tie, letting it hang down his sides. I gently took the dream catcher and draped it over his neck. He didn't stop me. He just stared at the floor, unmoving. I felt a twinge of guilt, thinking I had done too much, but I was satisfied nonetheless. He looked like his normal self now. Maybe a little flashy, but normal still.

He complimented my dress and he was off. He was first, anyway. District 1 exits first. That's the rule I now despise so much. He took the female District 1 tribute by the hand-a sly-eyed girl with dark brown hair and a fox-like smile and slanted red eyes-and they both walked into the stadium, waiting for the thousands of people to start chanting their names as if they were horses about to be raced. Though a little jealous, I smiled.

He didn't fix the changes I had made.

~Odette's 96th Hunger Games~

Back to the boy I disrespected so much.

Where was he?

I felt panic-which I disgraced myself in doing-as the District 2 tributes walked off. Where was Richie? He was supposed to go on with me. I swore under my breath that if I had to go on alone, he died before the Hunger games even started…Maybe I shouldn't look for him…

District 3 exited. I dashed off into the main part of the hotel, begging him to just show up so they wouldn't be late.

The first place I checked was the bathroom. You can't blame me. If you had ever met Richie in person, you'd think he spent all of his time in the bathroom, too.

Thankfully, I found him turning the corner towards the bathroom. It was the same place I had found the District 12s making out. I would've crashed into him, but he grabbed me by the wrists before I had a chance to. I was nearly in tears, thinking of what would happen if we hadn't showed up. I blinked them away as he glared down at me.

"Whoa there," he chuckled. "You won't kill me by running me over like that. Get a car or something."

"Is that supposed to be a joke?" I tested. "Because if you want, I can kill you any time."

"I see you're not laughing."

"Why would I laugh at someone who's destined to die at the Cornucopia once these stupid Games start?"

"Good point," he snickered. He shoved me up against the wall, pinning me down by my wrists. I couldn't move. I didn't show fear on my face. Good thing, too, because I didn't feel afraid. He didn't have a chance to do anything, anyway. As soon as he lets go of my hands, I'll punch him out. Speaking of my hands, his grip was so tight and sweaty that my veins were getting choked.

One of his hands strayed from my wrist, and my hand instinctively shot forward, but he held it back.

"You better not," he sneered. "Without me, you'll be walking down the red carpet all by yourself. They may even make you an Avox. How delightful that will be. You won't be able to speak anymore. So you couldn't argue."

He had a point. The cameras all of a sudden seemed more aware of us than they probably were, being distracted by the open ceremonies. Once it's our turn, though, we'll definitely take the spotlight.

I sighed, defeated. He smiled, pleased, and ran his finger across every inch of my body, making me shiver on reflex. He folded the bottom of my dress upward, revealing my body to the whole world. Still, I showed no fear. There was only one way out of this situation, and that was to scream. But, no, I felt lucky today. Screaming wasn't like me, so I'll just place the situation on luck's shoulders. Luck has a fifty-fifty chance of failing me. Screaming has a 100% chance of failing me.

Richie did a double-take. Did he hear something, or was he just being paranoid? I secretly begged luck to force some person-any person-over in our direction and stop him. Maybe someone else will turn into an Avox.

Luck doubled my wish. Two people peered around the corner that seemed to me the hotspot for perverts. I hated luck once I saw who they were, though.

Ryo and the other District 1 girl.

Ryo looked more than ever like a stupid, ignorant spy for District 1. And the girl? I wouldn't trust her for anything, hence the look in her eye. It made me angry. The Capitol was plotting against me, and so was Richie Hansen from District 8. However, Ryo wouldn't keep me angry for long.

The first thing that calmed me down to a near-sleeping state was what he was wearing. The same outfit I had left him in, dream catcher and all. He could've gotten in big trouble, and probably already did, but he chose to keep the changes I had set up for him. That was touching.

The second was that childish look of sheer terror on his face when he saw what Richie was doing to me. His face lit up bright red and he immediately whirled around. It was so cute it almost made me smile. Almost.

Richie bit his lip. "Just forget it," he snapped. "Bug off."

Ryo refused to turn back around. He tried to raise his voice as loudly as he could and sound threatening. I almost found the situation funny.

"L-L-Let g-go of Odette!"

Richie pursed his lips. "And just what is she to you?"

How sweet. He was talking like my opinion mattered.

Ryo stopped trying to speak louder. His voice was so soft I almost couldn't hear him. His head was pointed to the floor again, and he was gripping his dream catcher tightly.

"I'm…I'm…her…"

"Her what?" he challenged.

Ryo spun back around, facing him. His eyes looked determined, piercing, and he was screaming as loud as he could. His voice cracked with strain.

"I'm her boyfriend! What of it?"

It definitely caught Richie and I off guard. In fact, I think Ryo wasn't expecting it either. But it seemed to be good enough for him. His face was red with anger and his hands shaking in tight fists. His eyes were too busy to speak with me.

Richie recovered from the shock and smiled. "In that case, now seems like the time to deal with you." He dropped me. I landed in an awkward position, still dazed from shock. My legs squeezed together. I've had enough physical contact for a while.

Richie staggered over to Ryo. I hadn't realized it, but now that I got a good look at him, he looked drunker than I've ever seen anyone, even if he was underage. Ryo didn't move. He just glared defiantly into Richie's enraged eyes. They were speaking to each other without words. He kept his eerie glare on his face even up to the point when Richie's fist swept across his face, his fingernails tearing off the skin under his eye. He cushioned the bleeding with his palm, but refused to fight back. Richie kicked him in the fork of the legs and sulked away, hands in his pockets. Ryo moaned, but didn't go after him. It was chivalric, but he could've gotten himself killed, if Richie had felt any more violent.

I stood up and stuck out my hand to help him up. I didn't let my face reflect how worried I was. He didn't take my hand, but he looked up at me and smiled, his golden, angel smile, his left eye painted red with blood. His hand was still trying to wipe the blood away without spreading it into his eye.

I couldn't think of anything else to do. So I knelt down and asked him if he was okay. That was so insensitive…but I was never really a sensitive person anyway. With Ryo, however, I tried in vain to make an exception.

He laughed, blood dripping down his face. His voice was still cracking from speaking so loudly. I was as close to him as I had ever been. And now I could barely hear him. I felt tears coming to my eyes. He had done this to save me? His words only made things worse:

"This is the Hunger Games, Odette. I'm pretty sure there's worse to come."

~Odette's 96th Hunger Games~

Ryo and I spent the rest of the day in silence. Our eyes, however, had much more to say than ever. The funny thing is, they spoke like they actually weren't part of our body.

"Is Odette really Ryo's girlfriend?"

"Of course not! He just said that to bail her out!"

"But there were so many other things he could have said!"

"But they only would've actually gotten away with it if he said that."

"But now the Capitol really thinks they're going out!"

"So? Doesn't it go a bit deeper than that?"

We actually started looking away from each other because our eyes were being so annoying. Either way, it was terribly clear that I wasn't going out with Ryo. But that's beside the point.

The point is, I hate the Capitol. I hated it before, but I hate it for another reason now.

I am now "The Girl From District 13."

They wanted me to walk down the stadium, the world's eyes all on me, all by myself.

Richie had refused to go on with me, typically. However, the opening ceremonies had been over for about half an hour now. That means I'd be going on _after _District 12, as a District 13 should. I could've refused. But I loved the idea. I loved it because it was so horribly insulting that it made the Capitol look cruel. And I wanted to represent District 13. That was where I was from. I hate District 8. This was an opportunity to win, but earn District 8 no glory. So I decided to do it. And I would be proud to do it. Proud to disgrace myself.

All the other Districts were cheered for when they walked through the stadium. They smiled, waved, and had a good time. My face was serious, determined. Nobody cheered. They exchanged insults and questions in hushed voices. The wind made my dress lash at my hips. I felt more powerful the more hated I was. I think that's a secret factor to most people. Some love jealousy, some love anger, some just want people to know who they are.

I am District 13.

~Odette's 96th Hunger Games~

Training was long gone. Bu we'll get to that later. The interviews were worse.

No one congratulated me. No one wanted to look away from me. They just whispered to each other. The girl from District 13. Ryo barely acknowledged it. When it was over, he just pursed his lips and nodded with clear respect. I nodded back, and we walked toward the dining room together. Neither of us were going to eat. Nobody looked hungry, actually. Not even Richie.

~Odette's 96th Hunger Games~

Silence.

That's all I got from my stylists this time. I thought they had just given up on me and the interview. Just let me fail. I felt tempted to ask them to give up on me. But they still tried putting all sorts fabrics together to make an outfit for me. This time, I thanked them. Out loud. They murmured their response. The silence was, once again, a chance to think.

But even the silence of hatred wouldn't stay around. Not when I wanted it to.

"_Fabulous_, sweetie, just _fabulous_!" Kourtney shouted. The tremendousness of her voice shook me to the core. She actually ran up to me and hugged me, the up-close fakeness of her I feared would rub off on me and her face would be revealed as a robot. "You were simply wonderful, child! I love it, _I love it_!"

"What do you love?" I shouted back.

"Oh, child, you did so great! Such a silent, strong woman you are! I know just what we're doing! Here, I started last night and just managed to finish it by morning!"

She held up a dress made of white, black, and brown owl feathers. Two wings also made of feathers were strapped to the back. I had hunted owls long enough to know that they were real. I could also tell that, from the stitching on the dress, she was trying to milk the "sexy near-defloration" thing for all it was worth.

"How many animals did you kill to make this thing?" I asked, taken aback.

"Don't ask questions, just put it on!" she urged. She handed me a pair on black shoes with tiny wings on them. I put it on as quickly as I could, and immediately I wanted to fly. It was such a childish thing to think about, but…I had wings! I really felt like I could fly! And I looked stunning!

"Well, well? You like, yes?"

"I like," I said, trying to sound as none-girly as I could. She hugged me once more, took the dress off me, and shooed me out of the room, barely giving me a chance to throw my clothes back on.

A girl stopped me out the door. Who was she? I've seen her before, and recently…but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"Dette-Dette, will you be my friend?" she asked, like a lost schoolchild.

I gave her a weird look. "Um…no? Who are you?"

She frowned. "You won't? Then I'm afraid you'll have to pay, Dette-Dette." And with that, she was off.

I recognized her.

~Odette's 96th Hunger Games~

Bryan Porter. That was the name of the boy from District 12.

For a District 12, he didn't look poor. Neither did Temperance. The only reason Temperance was so skinny, I thought, was because she refused to eat about half of her life. Temperance was wearing a knee-length silver dress with black polka dots. She looked like her stylists tried too hard. Bryan was wearing black jeans and a dark gray t-shirt. He looked like his stylists didn't try hard enough.

Ryo's stylists seemed like it had just dawned on them who they were working with. He actually looked like himself. He was wearing a blue t-shirt with some brand name I've never heard of stitched onto the front in white lettering and pale green faded shorts. They actually wanted him to wear the dream catcher this time. He could've worn the same thing to the actual Hunger Games. The girl from District 1 surprised me a bit.

She was wearing white baggy pants and a straightjacket.

This, most certainly, was surprising.

Ryo's interview went fine. The new emcee's name was León Quell. He was nothing like the last emcee, who died a few years back. He wasn't exciting or helpful in any sort of way. In fact, he seemed to be out to get Ryo. He asked him all the questions that were obvious he didn't want to answer. However, as I said before, Ryo's perfect. He couldn't make himself bad if he tried.

"Why did you wear that thing around your neck, even though your stylist told you not to?" Quell asked. I bit my lip, hoping Ryo wouldn't rat me out. But, "that thing?" You couldn't have been just a little more sensitive?

Ryo's finger strayed to the string holding it around his neck, and he swirled it around a few times before answering. "This? I wanted people to know who I really, _really_ am. I don't want to fool around. If I'm going to die, I suppose…I suppose I want to do it as myself."

I smiled. It was too adorable to be human. The crowd was eating it up.

The girl sat next to Ryo, smiling sweetly. He introduced her as "Kya." Quell seemed to expect she would be in a straightjacket. His first question caught me off guard.

"What encouraged you to kill every single gamemaker that was evaluating you?"

What? She did _what _to the gamemakers?

"It…was a mistake…I guess…I was making explosions to impress them, and I made a mistake…"

Despite her innocence, her smile was still visible. Ryo looked uncomfortable next to her. I wanted to run up there and save him. Clearly, this girl was dangerous. I should try to kill her early.

"Where did you learn how to make explosives?"

Ryo shifted uncomfortably in his seat, teeth grinding. It annoyed me how fidgety he looked. Quell looked expectant for her answer. I was scared out of my wits. All thanks to this TNT-making girl from District 1. It was unbelievable how much she didn't belong there. I supposed she was just a dedicated career. My hands writhed together, sweaty and anxious. If I didn't know better, I was fearing that the whole stadium could blow into millions of pieces in a few seconds. I was terribly afraid of explosives. I also had a new fear for Ryo's life.

Her eyes widened. "There's a place where you _learn_?" she asked, astonished. Quell decided not to hear the rest of her answer.

"If you win, who will you owe your victory to?"

"If…I…win…" she looked as if she had never contemplated such a fact. "Well…I guess if I win…it will be…because of _me_, right? I mean, if I win…I did it, right? But, heehee, I won't win." She smiled sweetly.

"Do you have anything else to say?"

"One more thing, but…oh, you'll figure it out in a couple seconds when I step off."

Quell dismissed them, and they stepped off. I watched eagerly, wondering what her "one more thing" would be. She spoke to someone, who helped her out of her straightjacket. Immediately, I braced myself. She tenderly grasped him by the chin and moved closer to his lips.

…And there it went.

His back was turned to me.

Ryo was kissing the girl from District 1.

"I've always loved you, Ryo, from the first moment I saw you."

She parted with him, snickering, and left the stadium. Ryo brought his hand up to his lips, dazed. I couldn't even move.

"Tough luck," someone muttered from behind me. I turned, ready to punch someone. A girl with orange hair falling gracefully to her shoulders stood there. She had a necklace with a strange symbol on it. I recognized her-I think her name was Koneko. I only know this because she was refusing to eat with Temperance. I didn't feel like dealing with her, so I just turned back.

District 2 had taken the stage. Ryo still couldn't move. I approached him.

He turned. "Odette."

"Ryo," I mumbled.

"She killed them, Odette."

I didn't expect him to say that. Ryo started to shake.

"She killed them. The gamemakers. Kya killed them."

I sighed. No, I wasn't just about to let him charm his way out of this one. He was in trouble. I raised my hand, ready to slap him.

"…And now she's going to kill you, too."

I froze. Ryo was crying softly.

"What do you mean, she's going to kill me?" I said harshly.

"She said so…while she was kissing me…" He winced painfully. "She said that…she was…going to…"

I didn't make him talk anymore. I can't believe I let him get out of it, but I would've felt horrible if I had punished him. It didn't seem to be his fault, anyway.

"P…Please, don't tell her I told you."

"Why not?" I said softly, even if I was still fuming with anger.

"She said…she would kill me…if I t-told you…"

"Then keep it to yourself," I snapped. I stormed off, leaving Ryo crying, frightened by my anger. I needed to find her and knock some common sense into her. I wouldn't be up until later, anyway. I was going last.

There, in front of the whole world, I slapped the girl from District 1. Again. I felt a strange sense of déjà vu.

"You're not going to kill me," I said loudly, determined to push the fact as far as I could in her thick skull. "I'm going to kill _you_, you stupid little baby. That's how it works in the Hunger Games."

She gave me a smile. I grinded my teeth and walked away.

~Odette's 96th Hunger Games~

"Did you or did you not have an affair with Richie Hansen?" Quell asked.

I smiled. "Do you know who I am?" I asked softly, toying with my feathery dress.

"…"

"I am District 13," I snapped. "And he's a stupid good-for-nothing tribute representing District 8. Can you figure it out?"

"Give me a yes or a no," Quell rebounded.

"Do you know who you're talking to?" I asked again. "I am District 13."

"Do you consider yourself a rogue?"

"Did you not catch the last thing I told you? I am District-"

"We get it. You're District 13. Why should that change anything?"

"Silly Capitol boy. It changes everything."

"What exactly does it change?"

"All these people; they're just people," I said testily. I wasn't giving out information that easily. "I am everyone who is currently deceased. Everyone worth it, anyway."

"So, you're saying everyone from District 13?"

"Honestly, you're so stupid," I challenged. "Who am I again?"

"You're Odette Crywire. Stop pretending you're something more. A dirty little rat."

"If Kya can kill the gamemakers, I can kill you," I said sweetly. "But you can't touch me."

"What do you think-"

"I am District 13," I said, cutting him off. "There's nothing more to it than that."

And with that, I got up and walked away.

~Odette's 96th Hunger Games~

**If you're wondering why everything went all weird all of a sudden, things will get even more strange in the next chapter. See, this is why I hate partner stories! I have to change the order of the chapters halfway through because it didn't match up with iceshadow4's story! Well, I'll explain things next chapter. Like why Odette gets déjà vu. For now, Fury-chama is out. Um…No one call me that, please. ~Furyfur**


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